The Muse

[[The Muse has left me, and I'm having a pretty hard time writing anything creatively. As soon as I come up with a way to write about the things that have happened, I will. I promise an update by the end of the week...but I love the comment love I've been getting. Thanks so much :)



Jason Pt. 2

At 5:30, I'm done with my hair and make-up, and I'm staring anxiously at the clock. Each passing second reminds me how far away 6:00 seems. I start tapping my foot along with the steady pattern being drilled into my head by the clock. At 5:50, the clock is taunting me, daring me to wonder if I'm being stood up. I start daydreaming about the rumors that would fly if Jason were to stand me up for our first date--the one I'm not even sure is a date. I imagine myself standing on the street corner in a cliché black and white movie. My hair is blowing seductively in the wind, and I'm holding a handkerchief to my eyes, weeping under the dim glow cast on me by a street lamp. Soft music plays as my skirt flows in the breeze and I sob gently into my...
"How to Save a Life" starts blaring out of my cell phone, jarring me back into reality. It's 6:10, and I see Jason's number blinking up at me.
"I'm here."
"Alright, I'll be right down."
Okay, that was weird. I walk down to meet him, and he's leaning against his car, picking at his nails.
"Where do you want to eat?"
"Anywhere is fine."
"Women and their decision making skills," he winks at me and motions for me to get in the car. He seems different. He's no longer the jovial, flirtatious Jason I met at the squad. I tell myself that he's just having an off day.
He drives a whole fifty feet to the Subway across the street, and we have a brief meal. I feel awkwardly overdressed the whole time, wishing I had opted for jeans and a shirt like he did. I wonder if he picked those out to look intentionally laid back, or if he didn't think to wear anything else. Our conversation is sporadic to say the least. He asks me questions about my involvement in the rescue squad, and then falls silent. Great, this date is just phenomenal.
During the meal, it comes up that he has a suspended license. I ask him how he managed to get here, and he replies with, "I drove," as if that is supposed to explain it all. I try to figure out if he drove because he wanted to see me so badly, or if he didn't care about the law. Either way, I'm not too impressed.
The date ends less than satisfactorily with him kissing me awkwardly against his car, and he's back to Clearview for the night. I go back to my business, and the black and white movie star Sam throws her hands up in the air. This date was not worthy of a cliché movie daydream.
Time passes, and Jason and I go on a few more dates. Each one ends differently. On the second, he's kissing me goodbye, letting his hand fall lower down my back, and by the third he's trying to cop a feel. I awkwardly avoid his advances in the parking lot, and tell myself it was an accident--he's not overzealous, no!
We talk more, and I even bring up the idea of dating, to which he replies "It's a possibility." Boy, how reassuring. It becomes blatantly clear that he's told Drew (and probably other Clearview members) lies about the things that have happened between us. I am not happy, but I try and pretend that Drew is just telling me those things because he's jealous. I'm trying so desperately to push the advice he and Matt gave me about Jason out of my head.
One day I text him from my phone to see if he wants to hang out. He tells me he does, but that he has a "dilemma." Oh, must be a scheduling conflict, some prior commitment for sure.
"I'm sorta talking to someone else."
My jaw falls open, and I feel a burning in my cheeks. I'm trying not to cry, wanting to hear everything he has to say.
He goes on to tell me how despite this girl he's "talking to," he still wants to "have fun," with me. Fat freaking chance, bud. I text back and forth with him, saying how I refuse to be the proverbial "other woman," and how I won't help him hurt this other girl (the way he's hurt me).
"Let me know when you're single," I finally type, and quickly turn off my phone. I try so hard not to be hurt, but I keep hearing what Drew and Matt said echoing in my mind. I'm so angry at him, and I'm so angry at myself for not listening to my friends, who obviously knew what they were talking about.
I quickly tell Drew and Matt of the recent developments, and I'm so grateful that they don't assume the "we told you so," position. They're very supportive, and simply remind me that next time they take a position on a guy, I had better listen to them.
So I crashed and burned that time. I obviously learned my lesson.

[[After some thought, I've decided to put this post (and part 1) back up effective 4/2/2008. I'm not quite sure why, but I've just decided to do it. So it was gone for a while, and now it's not.]]



There is a moment in time when everything stops. The moment immediately preceding the radio dispatching you to a scene, time halts completely; the world falls under a silence like none other. I never noticed this in the beginning of my career in EMS, but as I work more often, I begin to notice it.
We're watching TV, when suddenly the picture flickers, and we're dispatched.
A fly buzzing about halts in midair for no more than instant, and we're grabbing our coats as we head towards the door.
One night, I decide to pull an over-night shift to help out one of the paid providers. As I lie awake in the room by myself, I hear various radios keyed up by mistake, providing the blank static I constantly mistake for a call. I am restless; it's only ten thirty, but all I want is sleep. I hear my partner snoring loudly from the other room, and I sigh. I place my watch against my ear, hoping that the rhythmic ticking will drown out his unbelievable snoring and lull me into a deep slumber.
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
I feel my eyes growing tired, and I am unable to bear the weight of my eyelids any longer.
Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
My hand twitches slightly as I feel myself falling asleep.
There is a heavy silence as my watch falters; my eyes fly open.
The radio jars me back to reality as it screams out a violent tone. I sit bolt upright and rub my eyes as I hear the words coming from the black box in the corner.
"Station 1, seizure, Clearview Park."
"Station 1 received, we'll have a medic in route shortly," I answer in a sleep-laden voice. I throw on my shoes and poke my partner in the side.
"Unngh," he grunts as I jab him another time.
"Seizure. I'm warming up Medic 1."
We drive out to the scene and do our size up==middle-aged homeless man and the wide-eyed soccer mom who called for us, guarding her child behind her leg. I'm writing down patient information, and my partner is taking vitals. My ears are still ringing from the sound signaling our dispatch, and I want nothing more than to curl up under my fleece blanket and pick up where I left off. It seems like an hour has gone by, but we've only been on scene three minutes. We immediately get a refusal from our patient, but check him out just to be sure. He didn't call 911, he sure as hell doesn't want to go.
"Whatever, it's more sleep for us," my heavy-lidded partner yawns.
I groggily drive us back to the station and curse the good samaratin who decided this bum's hypnic jerk was a seizure.
I lie back down on my rock of a mattress, drag the green fleece over me, and put my hand under my head. I can hear the blood rushing through my ears, and I feel the steady beat of my pulse.
I barely notice the involuntary key-ups from careless radio-carriers.
I sleep so well, I don't even care how much pain my scoliosis-ridden back is in.
I'm wide awake in an instant, and then I hear the follow up.
It's six in the morning, and the heinous screech doesn't even phase me as I'm lacing my boots.
"Chest pain. Meet you at the medic."


Jason Pt. 1

His name is Jason, and he's just my type. He's funny, polite, and intelligent, not to mention absolutely gorgeous. Due to some scheduling issues, I'm running on a different night this week which just so happens to be his. I don't know anyone, and I feel completely out of place, but then I meet Jason and my heart leaps up into my throat. This is the best night ever. He shows me some of the equipment and even helps me cook dinner. He's talking more to Grant, his doofus of a best friend, than to me, but I could care less. Everything he says is either followed by a wink or a smirk, and each time I feel my pulse quicken. We don't get to interact as much as I would have liked because I am swamped with homework and he is busy acting stupid with Grant. I am completely floored by my night; I don't remember a single thing that happened, other than meeting him, of course. I leave wanting more.
As I sit in front of my computer in my dorm room, typing away at my Spanish paper, I receive an instant message. Thinking it's just another friend of mine from the hall wanting to hang out, I unenthusiastically read it. But I'm surprised; this isn't from someone I recognize. The screen name is rescueboy20; I must know him somehow, but his opening message of "hey, what's up," doesn't give me many hints.
We talk for a bit and I quickly realize it's Jason. The butterflies in my stomach resume their fluttering, and I am clamoring to sound witty, smart and flirty all at the same time. Somehow, it works, and he asks me out for dinner tomorrow night. While we talk, I manage to learn a little more about him. He's twenty years old, and he's an EMT-I. He's in school right now to become a paramedic, and he's lived in Clearview all his life. It becomes apparent that he has a bit of a god-complex about him, but I ignore it in hopes of finding something better behind the facade. We finalize the plans for dinner and he signs offline, leaving me to my paper. As of now, no quiero escribirlo. Spanish is the least of my priorities.
I talk to Drew and another friend of mine from the rescue squad, Matt, telling them of my good fortune with Jason. Both of them give me the wholehearted "don't you dare pursue anything with him," that I dreaded I would hear. I can see that they are acting with my best interests at heart, but it doesn't feel like it. They give me reason after reason: Jason's a player; rumors will fly around the squad; Jason is going to break my heart; Jason is nothing but trouble. For about fifteen minutes, I listen to Drew explain to me exactly why Jason is the wrong man for me. I also get to hear what he will do to him if he should break my heart. I stop paying attention and start fantasizing that the reason Drew doesn't want me going out with Jason is because he wants me all for himself. "Sam, you're like a little sister to me," snaps me out of it. Christ, there goes that dream.
Despite their words of warning, I decide to go for it. What can I lose? He's single, I'm single, and we're just going out for dinner. Besides, he didn't even call it a date. We're just a couple of friends hanging out, right?

[[After some thought, I've decided to put this post (and part 2) back up effective 4/2/2008. I'm not quite sure why, but I've just decided to do it. So it was gone for a while, and now it's not.]]